Like Father, Like Son
by Sandalaris
Summary: Fate has a nasty tendency of repeating itself. Two love triangles, two generations, one problem. Malfoys want what they can't have, little firey redheads, who date bespeceld boys. DG as always, with a bit of JamesLily one-sided LuciusLiy HarryGinny
1. Deja Vu

I wasn't suppose to want her. She was dating Potter. I never thought she'd actually agree to date him, he's been asking for nearly six years, so why the bloody hell did she give in now? Oh, Merlin, why do I want her? Why did she have to give in to him? She's a mudblood for Merlin's sake, I shouldn't even be thinking about her, yet here I am watching her, and feeling the sharp bitterness of jealousy forming in the pit of my stomach. I want her. I want her in the worst possible way. I want to feel that freckled skin beneath my fingers, I was to bury my face in those crimson locks, I want to hear those lips moan my name, and watch those emerald eyes widen as I take her. I want Lily Evans.

And so, I promptly began ignoring her. If I wanted her, and I couldn't have her, then I would simply pretend she didn't exist. I had a name to uphold, I could already hear my father's words in my ear, "She's a filthy mudblood whore, Lucius. If you must have her, shag her once and be done with it, but be sure to get her out of your bed as quickly as possible, and with no _complications. _The Malfoy name is pure; do _not_ allow some filthy mudblood to tarnish it." But the problem was, I wasn't sure I could just shag and leave Evans. I had a sinking feeling that if I had her once, I'd want her again, and again. I would want to claim her, make her mine, and declare her untouchable to other wizards. And that was a very dangerous thought. No, I couldn't touch Lily Evans, and therefore inlay the temptation. I couldn't have her, which made me want her. But I wanted her so badly, I couldn't have her. I was stuck in a continuous loop of desire and denial, and so I ignored and waited. Waited for the day I could leave Hogwarts and never look back, waited for the day I could escape the endlessly tormenting halls, and the flash of red hair that made my body tighten and my breathing quicken. I waited for my escape.

One week before graduation, one week before my escape of this stone hell. I was patrolling, one of my last patrols, before I was gone, free from this place, from her image for good. I didn't see her at first. I didn't notice her until I was almost on her. It was a flash of crimson locks that stopped me, made me look at her instead of passing her by and taking a few points for being out so late. That was my first mistake.

"What are you doing here, Evans?" my voice was as cold as I wanted it to be, full of disgust, but my breathing was barely controlled, and my mind was a whirl of unrecognizable thoughts, so that it was all I could do to let her words register in my jumbled mind.

"What business is it of yours, Malfoy?" her voice was indifferent holding none of my disdain, but her eyes gave her away. The eyes always gave her away. She was suspicious, cautious even, watching me with an unwavering stare, her face betraying nothing that her eyes told.

"It's my patrol," I said simply, my voice bored, even as my eyes flicking around the stone walls to avoid her heavy gaze. "Yours doesn't start for nearly another hour." I froze, did she catch my slip, did she question how I knew when she was to patrol? Would she guess that I watched her at times, late at night while she moved around the castle on her nighttime patrols?

My breath, my entire being seem to still, waiting for her reply.

"Lavatory, if you must know. I needed a bath." I could have taken points, bathing was not an excuse to be out past curfew, but my head filled with thoughts of her wet and hot and soapy in the Prefects' bathroom, and all thoughts of taking points vanished with that blessedly, naughty visual.

I blame the confusing visual on my next move. I took a step towards her, invading any personal bubble she might have had. I heard an involuntary gasp barely escape her lips as I stared down at her. Her emerald eyes were wide with surprise and the smallest flicker of fear. I watched her chest rise and fall as her breathing sped up. She went to take a step back and my hand found her wrist, the other going to her waist to pull her towards me. _This wasn't right, _a little voice in my head, which sounded suspiciously like my father, said, _she's a mudblood, and you're a Malfoy. Stop the foolishness at once. _But I pushed it away and did something I'd been dying to do all year. I kissed the foolish, filthy, mudblood, redhead of my dreams. I kissed her with all the passion, all the desire I had built up within me. My hands held he flush against my chest, my teeth nibbled her bottom lip, my tough explored her, tasted her. I was quickly loosing my head, my control, falling into the feel, the taste, the smell of Lily Evans.

I pushed her away before it could go too far, before I was too far gone to care that she was beneath me, that she was dating someone as wretched as Potter, that she was a Gryffindor, and that she represented everything that I stood against. She stood there, breathing as erratic as my own, her eyes wild and a little dark, her lips properly swollen. She looked utterly shaggable, and I had to fight ever instinct I had to keep myself from pressing her against the wall and finishing what I started. But I just stood there and stared at her, fighting an inner battle of desire and duty.

"I'm engaged to James."

It took a moment for her words to sink in, for the realization to dawn on me what she said and even then I wasn't sure what, or why, she said it. "What?" My voice was breathy, and low; my lack of control and dignity evident in that one word.

She blushed and looked down, "James asked me to marry him, and I said yes." She didn't look as me as she said those words, or as she turned and walked away. I could have called after her, I could have made her come back and explain why she said that. I could have told her…...I could have done a lot of things, but I didn't I just stood there, and watched her walk away from. Watched her walk out of my life forever. It wasn't until I was back in my dorm room, that I realized……… she had kissed me back.

I've been told all my life that I'm like my father, and I've taken it all my life as a compliment. But in this one aspect I was not like him. He would never have accepted it, never have allowed it to happen. Merlin, I wasn't suppose to want her. She's Potter's girl. I never thought she'd actually start dating him, he's ignored her for nearly six bloody years, so what made him finally notice her? Oh, why do I want her? She's a Weasley for Merlin's sake. I shouldn't be thinking naughty thoughts about her. Yet, here I am, watching her with him, feeling the bitter sharpness of jealousy forming in the pit of my stomach. I want her. I want her in the worst possible way. I want to feel that freckled skin beneath my fingers, I was to bury my face in those crimson locks, I want to hear those lips moan my name, and watch those chocolate eyes widen as I take her. I want Ginevre Weasley.

And so I did what any self respecting gentleman would do, I began to ignore her. If I wanted her, and I couldn't have her then, like everything Potter owned that I coveted, I would simply pretend she didn't exist. I had a name to uphold, I could almost hear my father's words in my ear, "She's a filthy mudblood-lover whore, Draco. If you must have her, shag her once and be done with it, but be sure to get her out of your bed as quickly as possible, and with no _complications. _The Malfoy name is pure; do _not_ allow some filthy Weasley trash to tarnish it." But the problem was, I wasn't sure I could just shag and leave the Weaselette. I had a sinking feeling that if I tasted her once, I'd want her again, and again. I would want to claim her, make her mine, and declare her untouchable to other wizards. And that was a very dangerous thought. No, I couldn't touch Ginevre Weasley, and therefore inlay my weakness. I couldn't have her, which made me want her. But I wanted her so badly, I knew couldn't touch her. I was stuck in an endless loop of desire and denial, and so I ignored and waited. Waited for the day I could leave London and never look back, waited for the day I could escape the endlessly tormenting sights, smells, the flash of red hair that made my body tighten and my breathing quicken. I waited for my escape. But even I knew that I wouldn't soon find the end of my torment. I lived with her now. Lived at the stinking Grimmaulds ruin, where Snape left me after fleeing Hogwarts. He bartered for my life, promising to take his punishment, whatever it may be, without question or fight as long as they would harbor me, allow me to be a refuge of the war, protect me. I was there as they argued, my godfather and the werewolf, Lupin. I watched as the argued over me, before finally the Weasley parents stepped forward and agreed, under the condition that Snape stay locked in a room there, awaiting trail at the end of the war. And I was given a room, and then sent back here for my final year, while Potter and his little gang of wanna-be heroes gallivant off to save the world.

One week, one week and I'll be back in that hell whole called a house. And so where my thoughts that night on my final patrol of the castle, alone at night. I didn't see her at first. I didn't notice her until I was almost on her. It was a flash of crimson that stopped me, made me look at her instead of passing her by and taking a house points for being out so late. That was my first mistake.

"What are you doing her, Weasley?" My voice was cold, harsh, but my hands shook with the effort not to reach for her, not to embrace the redhead beauty before me.

"What business is it of yours, Malfoy?" her voice was bored, bordering on indifference, but it was her eyes that gave her away. Her eyes were always like that. She didn't completely trust me at the Black house, and those brown orbs stared at me now, with suspicion and caution, unwavering in their intense stare.

"It's my patrol," I said simply, going for bored even as my eyes danced around the stone wall to avoid her unending gaze. "Yours doesn't start for nearly another hour." I stilled. She had been made Prefect when Granger left, but did she notice that I knew that, did she question how I knew her schedule? Would she guess my thoughts? Was I even now giving it all away with my froze form?

My mind seemed to be frozen waiting on her next words.

"Lavatory, if you must know. I needed a bath." I could have, I should have, taken points, bathing was not an excuse to be out past curfew as far as my knowledge went, but my thoughts where filled with the one time I caught a peek of her coming out to the bath at the house. Her hair wet and warm, falling around deliciously freckled shoulders, the towel split slightly giving a long line of thigh, she didn't see me, but continued on her way to her room, leaving me alone with the whirl of impure thoughts, and all notion of taking points vanished with the memory.

Blame it on months of pent up frustration, on the memory triggered, or the fact that sick and bloody tired of Potter getting everything I wanted, but I something over took me. I took as step forward, invading any personal space she might have had. Her eyes widened and she went to take a step back as I stared down at her small form, but my hand found her wrist, my arm her waist. Fear flickered through her eyes, her breathing sped up a notch as I pulled her against me._ This wasn't right, _a little voice in my head, which sounded suspiciously like my father, said, _she's a muggle-lover and a Weasley, you're a Malfoy. Stop the foolishness at once. _But I fought against it, pushed it away and did something I'd been dying to do shortly after arriving at Grimmaulds. I kissed her foolish, filthy, mudblood-loving, redhead of my dreams. I kissed her with all my desire for her, all my passion driven into me by being so near, yet unallowed to touch. My arms held her flush against me, my mouth assaulted her with kisses, my tongue explored her, tasted her. I was very quickly loosing control, falling into the feel, the taste, the smell that was Ginevre Weasley.

I pushed her away before I could do something really stupid, before I was too far gone to care that she was beneath me, that she flaunted over someone as wretched as Potter, that she was a Gryffindor, and a Weasley. She stood before me, her eyes unfocused, her breathing as heavy as my own, her lips properly swollen. She looked utterly shaggable, and I had to fight every desire, every impulse not to press against the castle wall and take her. So I just stood there, like an idiot, and started at, fighting the inner battle of desire, and honor.

"I said I would wait for Harry."

It took a moment for her words to sink in, for realization to dawn on me what she said and even then I wasn't sure what, or even why, she said it. "Huh?" My lose of dignity was evident in that I couldn't even form a proper word.

She blushed and looked down, "Harry asked me to wait for him when he and the others left to search for the Horcruxes." She stared at the ground as the words left her mouth, stared at the ground as she turned and left, left me behind, just as she'd been left behind by those closestto her, left me there with my thoughts. I could have called to her. If it had been my father he would have called to her. He would have made her come back and explain why she said what she did. He wouldn't have just stood there with things left unsaid. Instead I just stood there and watched her walk away from me. It wasn't until I was almost back to my room that I realized………... she had kissed me back.

_A/N: alrighty, I'm not completely satisfied with the ending, I usually like Draco to end up with Ginny, and I have more that I could make the ending, but I'm going to leave it up to ya'll; it could work as a short squeal, I'd just tack it on to this one, making to two chapters instead of one, or we could leave it as is. Your choice._

_I got inspired to do this by the song Jesse's Girl, but Rick Springfield. I jut couldn't get the thought of Lucius liking Lily from afar while James (aka Jesse) was dating her. I think I had them stuck in my head from recently reading Lily/James fanfiction, and then I couldn't seem to get it out of my head how like James/Harry, Ginny/Lily and Lucius/Draco were, so ta-da here's what's came out of my strange and demented head. Feel free to question and reviews. Love you all_

_K_


	2. Potter Loses

She was avoiding me. Steadily avoiding me for two whole weeks and counting. Just as I had been avoiding her. But I'm tired of avoiding her, sick of hiding. And I was hiding; hiding from a Weasley. My father would have been ashamed. Graduation is when I had finally decided I didn't want to hide anymore, didn't want to cower in the corner and watch as Potter took something else I so desperately desired. It still took me a week, a week to build my courage (hey, I'm a Slytherian, give me a break, we're not exactly known for our bravery), for me to remind myself I was a Malfoy and Malfoy's don't just stand there and watch what they want walk away from them.

I sought her out, once back at Grimmaulds place, and found her, curled up with that orange fuzz ball Granger called a cat. She looked up as I approached her, warm brown eyes widening. The Slytherian in me preened in triumph at her fear, delighted in her show of weakness, but the man in me stomped it out. I didn't want her to be afraid of me, I wanted her to want me.

"Why?" I don't know what made me ask. It wasn't what I had planned on saying; I'd planned on smooth lines, and suave gestures to win her over, to seduce her to my side. I'd planned to play up my strengths, to work against her weaknesses to bring her around. "Why do you wait for him?"

She sighed, looking down at the floor, away from my gaze. "I care about Harry. And he cares about me, he's trying to protect me."

I couldn't hold back my snort. "Protect you? From what?" She gave her infamous Weasley glare, the one I'd seen her mother use on an unsuspecting wizard or witch, ready to defend precious "Harry". "You're in this war whether you, or he, likes it or not. We all are." I ploughed on, my hands going up to emphasize my words. "Does he really believe that by sticking you in some hole you'll be _safe_? That the war will just pass you by, that it won't get you? One way or another you'll be affected. One way or another it'll get to you. Maybe not physically harm you, but Merlin, Ginny, you have six brothers, not to mention a mum and dad, fighting in this way. Not to mention one of who is at the very heart of all the chaos, in the very thick of it, searching for those bloody Horcruxes. Does he really believe you'll be safe from the affects of the war?...Do you?" My voice had gone soft, weak at the last words. I was showing weakness, losing my careful control. I struggled to control myself while she just stared at me. When I spoke again my voice was low, but steady; all emotions safely hidden away. "All _Harry_ did was limit your options. To try and keep you from fighting. But at least it wasn't his choice to make. It still isn't. It's yours. If you want to stay tucked in here, _safe_ from all the violence, then fine, that's your choice. But at least it's yours to make." We both knew that those last words weren't just for her. I didn't have the choices she got, I never had those choices and I never would. I was considered too dangerous to actually join in the fighting, my loyalties too questionable. I didn't really want to fight, but, selfishly, I wanted the option.

I left her there, in that room, with that cat and my words. I had meant to try and seduce her, but had ended up pouring a little bit of myself at her feet. I just hoped and prayed she didn't step all over it.

Another week went by before she spoke to me. She didn't say much. Just a small, "Hey," and "I've made my choice." I never got to ask what she meant, and I never knew for she kissed me. A slow, cautious taste of my lips, a slow pressure that left me breathless. We didn't get carried away, but what we did was enough, those few slow kisses, her hand lightly on my arm and it was enough.

Epilogue

She lay curled into me, her face buried into my neck, her bare thigh resting lightly over my own. I still marveled over the feel of her silken, freckled skin beneath my fingers, my head turned slightly to bury my face in those crimson strands. She always smelled so good; like sunshine and warm nights. Even after nearly three years she still amazed me, still captivated me with just her smile.

It took her family awhile to except me in her life, but that was to be expected. Surprisingly, the twins were the first to give their "oks", and, predictably, Ronald the last. Potter never said a word, he just nodded once and that was that in his book. It wasn't until I saw him look at Ginny months later that I knew, he loved her. Maybe not in the way he wanted, and defiantly not the way she deserved, but he loved her none-the-less, and that's when I realized; Potter may have won the war, but he lost the girl, but for the fist time in a long time, maybe even ever, I won and Potter lost. And for the first time, that didn't matter. All that mattered was the woman in my arms, and how to keep her there.

I am a Malfoy, and like my father before me, I won't just sit back and watch what I want go to someone else, especially the redheaded girl of my dreams.

_A/N: Ok, short, but cute. Just what I wanted._


End file.
